Journal of Faust Yuasa
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I returned from the Castle by the Sea. I have paid a price too dear. I have paid a price so dear I can no longer remember what it was. I have a dead son named Mordred. And I have no mother to give him.
Not anymore.
I have read my old journals, those from my time at Darkridge again. Her name was Rumiko. Rumiko Sone. She was my wife, years before Lilly. She was the love of my life and she made me happy when I was a much younger man. A less bitter man.
And the Mer took her from me. For the good of Komaru. And they took her from me. Some prices are too high for anyone to bear. It would have been kinder to kill me. Kinder to consign me to the waters we all fear, in the hands of a female Mer. If they even have hands. I'm not even sure. Not that it matters.
She's gone. I look to the rooms I don't use. and I see the touch of a woman I don't know in those rooms. The portrait of a woman I don't remember anymore. The woman I loved most of all, taken from me so many years ago. And taken from me again now.
Rumiko Sone. Now she is truly dead. Not even the memory of her remains. And for what? For a sword I cannot touch. For a battle I could not fight.
I have reread my my old journals. Damn you, Darkridge. Damn you to Perdition's Flame. All that I asked of you in parting, denied me. I cannot even remember the sunset there. The sunset she died for the first time. The sunset that will be the last thing I see years and years from now.
If I live that long. All that I touch turns to dust. I am a broken man, pushed too far. So many years, so many prices paid. Blood. Pain. Sweat. Even tears. The life of my wife. The life of my son. Violaine. My self.
To those who would follow me in my path and ask of the Mer a boon, I leave this warning. The price you will pay shall be smaller then you expect, but larger than you can imagine. Initiates of the void, the path of war, take heed and read my words, lest I forget them and they take more of all I have left, my memories.
Nyctariel, the darkness that devours. Yorutsuki, the shadow guardian. Oborekomu, the westward ocean.
For the power gained in attuning to Yorutsuki, you may beseech Nyctariel to grant you the power to Call the Sea-Child.
I digress for a moment, that those who follow after me may know of Komaru some of what I have paid so dearly for. The endless cycle of conflict that drives the ages, the End Times. I think it is driven by the four cardinal forces that surround Komaru.
The Aten are obvious, from beyond the Eastern Furnace. They seek their dominion by force of arms. They cannot be allowed purchase in Yuasa lands, for as once they were our masters, so they would be again. Seek out knowledge of the Builders and the Shapers as I have. And know to quench a blade in the blood of one of the Aten's children. With the Mer's blessing on the blade, brought forth then from the Whispering Gate, it shall be a weapon to kill the Pharoah.
The Mer are the enemies of the Aten, in the westward ocean. They are free with their favors and take from us what blood alone cannot. they rob us of ourselves and bind us with ourselves, the parts of us we no longer possess. They can be called upon to bless the sword quenched in Aten blood and transform it into emerald death. I have called for their blessing and received it. I will never be whole again.
The Kitsune in the Crystal Plains to the south. The shapechangers, seducers taking advantage of our nobility of spirit and our love. They would bring back the dead, be anything we want. Or so they would claim. Worming their way close and into our hearts, we would no longer be ourselves, we would be their creatures. Their way is Deceit.
And the Naga in the Shielder Mountains to the north. Theirs is the way of religion and awe. As they were once worshipped by the Asawa we displaced, they are the serpents in the icons seen in the northern reaches or our territories. There is some link between them and the Keepers of Secrets, I think. But I do not know it all.
None of them can be trusted. Ever.
If you call the sea child, by standing with your hand in the westward ocean, you will hear their song and they will be drawn to it. And you may ask of them a boon which they may or may not grant. If they grant it, they will take a part of you with them. It is both painless and more painful then you can imagine. They will take something that can never be replaced. Never restored. Never healed. It leaves a hole in you that can never be filled again.
Never again. Death first.
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(In a more reflective, or less angry hand)
Sokar's war is ended. Prince Alessandro fell in the battle, as did Meiko.
The sacrifices we all make for the good of Komaru. I write now in the hopes that what I speak of will not be lost in the turning of the Age, and will be useful to those that follow.
The Keepers of Secrets are the Naga to the North - they have long held a pact with the lost Asawa, which lets them continue to be the living history of Komaru. A power of the northern path can invoke that pact, and an ancestral spirit already possessed, may be exchanged for one in the Naga's keeping. I am uncertain if any have done this in living memory. Perhaps the Veiled Guard know more.
But what I truly know of, are the Aten. Mitrasama is the Whispering Gate, made of a Tennut no Miko and a sword of jade. The Ordeal, it is said, involves vanquishing a creature of the cosmos again. I recommend finding a sorceror who knows of summonings (Words of the Asura, or Words of the Deva, perhaps?) to bring forth such a being in a powerless form to create the Tennut no Miko. This way may Mitrasama's Ordeal be a safer thing.
There is a work called On the Maiden's Ordeals, which details this ordeal and the rest. Verity Touraine's journals are undeniably useful when learning the art of High Magic. Seek out also a book detailing the siege of Sirocco - from it will you learn more about the Aten, the Builders, and the Shapers.
I wish you luck, those who come after me. Do not make the mistakes I have made. Many Yuasa lives were lost because we had forgotten the Aten were once our Masters, from our days in the East, before we passed through the lines the Minamet drew up to keep us away. They are sworn never to forgive even if most of them have forgotten the slight which drew us apart. How could we have known the Asawa, worshipping their snakes, would end up lost, and the heart of the Minamet ripped asunder when we came West to Komaru?